


Good Enough

by SleepyKalena



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Fights, Internal Conflicts being Demonstrated in Physical Conflict, Rebelcaptain Secret Santa, Rebelcaptain Secret Santa 2018, Self-Doubt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 02:20:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17336840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepyKalena/pseuds/SleepyKalena
Summary: Jyn Erso is one of the Heroes of Scarif, the ruthless fighter that gets the job done, the ever-swift force of nature that gets thrown into every risky situation imaginable for the Alliance, and makes it back alive. Beaten and battered, perhaps, butalive.And yet-It's not good enough.Why, in spite all of what she's done and continues to do, does she feel like she's not worthy of praise?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mindelan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mindelan/gifts).



> For [mindelan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mindelan)! I'm your second Rebelcaptain Secret Santa, and I'm here to (hopefully) deliver on angst and hurt/comfort!
> 
> You were kind enough to give me a choice between "What happened to her?" and "I don't want your apologies, I want my [relation] back!" for the prompt, so being the Extra(TM) dumbass that I am, I tried to address both and write a fic that was meant to be 6k...which has already gone well over the 8.5k mark, so I'm splitting the story in two chapters
> 
> I know that I've twisted the prompts a bit, but I thought it was a good opportunity to provide a Jyn-centric, emotional hurt/comfort rather than put her in a perilous situation. In hindsight, I think it was a good move, given that your original secret santa opted to go that route (in a REALLY COOL WAY, might I add), so your gifts definitely have some variety to them. Despite the miscommunication for this exchange, I'm happy to have received this prompt- it was a good challenge for my mind :D Fingers crossed that you enjoy reading it as I did writing it!

_It’s not enough._

Dull thuds echoed the rec room with each hit Jyn struck against the punching bag. She wasn’t a boxer- never claimed to be, anyway- but she had an enemy that needed to be beaten up, badly. Try as she might, however, the slippery foe was intangible, a mere concept in her mind that she couldn’t shake off so easily, and it annoyed her to no end.

_Step-step swing._

She used to take her anger out by sparring. At least, it was until one day it was no longer an option- a cadet was so badly beaten down that the others were struck with paralyzing fear, and word of the injuries she inflicted quickly spread.

No one had been willing to spar with her since.

_Swing-swing-punch._

_Not enough._

She wasn’t sure when she last felt this unsure about herself, much less when she even cared that much about it. Really, what was there to be unsure about? She still had a steady stream of assignments, and no matter how rough they were, she would finish them in a timely manner and dust her dirtied hands off in time for the next one. It was the same old song and dance; much like her time with the Partisans, much like her time when she was shackled down and mining on Wobani.

_Jab, jab, jab-swing-punch._

_It’s never enough._

If anything, her past accomplishments were what gave her the notoriety that landed her in Wobani in the first place; _that’s_ how good she was. She was good enough that she flew to Scarif with the others and delivered the kriffing plans. She was good enough that the Alliance kept her rather than dumping her on some unknown outer-rim planet once the Death Star was destroyed.

She _was_ good enough. Of course she was good enough, she could assure herself of this over and over again, and yet…

_Step back, step-step, lunge-duck-swing-punch._

_It’s not enough._

Though Jyn spent her energy concentrating her bitterness to her knuckles in hope of punching them out, she couldn’t even figure out when she became so bitter in the first place. Time slowed as her thoughts raced; her muscles tensed, the fibers contracting one by one and the bloodflow turned to lava as her mind weaved through every memory, every sensory experience, searching for a possible origin point.

Was it after they left the mid-rim from that recon mission and she made the mistake of letting her ship get tracked and intercepted by Empire-hired bounty hunters? That couldn’t be right- despite the look of consternation etched in the fine lines of Cassian’s steely gaze in the aftermath, he’d dropped the issue entirely once the post-assignment reports were submitted. She felt like an inadequate soldier for making such a rookie mistake despite more than a decade of experience, and the look of disappointment that flashed across Cassian’s face before they went to bed that night made her feel worse. But even after her failure to ensure that no one was tracking them on the way back from assignment, the threat was eventually vanquished, their ships downed as their bodies singed and subsequently froze in the blackness of space, and Draven considered it enough of a success that her mistake could be overlooked. It’s just-

_It wasn’t good enough._

No, she was berating herself more harshly than usual by then. She had to keep searching further back.

_Punch-swing-punch, step-step jab._

Perhaps it was during that run-in with the Britarro who had a score to settle with Liana on assignment a few months prior. What was supposed to be a simple touch-and-go Intel trading mission turned sideways and ended in Jyn nearly seeing the end of her life.

> She was outnumbered and out-muscled- the Britarro had clearly learned from his past mistakes with her- and as she was pinned down, bleeding and weak, shoved down to her knees by two Rodians with a firm grip on either arm, Jyn stared down the barrel of his blaster as it charged up for one last fire.
> 
> Only one thought surfaced in her mind at the time: _You’ll never catch a break; you’re not meant for this life._
> 
> It was the most resigned thought she ever had as she took the nanoseconds of her remaining life into consideration before accepting her impending death. She even made sure to stare the Britarro in the eye, as if to dare him to do his worst.
> 
> But then, she _did_ catch her break, and after hearing three sharp, concise blaster shots, the Britarro fell, as did the Rodians on either side of her, their bodies collapsing seemingly of their own accord. She looked up to see, on a distant rooftop, the glimmer of a sniper blaster and a small lump of a silhouette.
> 
> Cassian.

He saved her life. Again.

_Step-step, lunge, swing-jab-jab._

> She should have been happy. She should have chuckled at the good timing, or even sighed in relief. Instead, she cried quietly, letting hot tears stream down her cheeks for just a moment as her body shook in an attempt to stop the worst of her frustrations from surfacing.
> 
> Cassian was quick to make his way towards her as she hobbled away from the pile of fallen bodies towards safety in order to patch herself up, but it didn’t matter anymore. She remembered being angry at herself again-

_Again?_

Yes. She was angry _again_ , to the point where she swatted Cassian’s hand away as he attempted to reach for the bacta gel.

> “Are you okay?” he soon asked with a quiet tenderness, the shock of her near-death experience still shaking his voice a bit.
> 
> “I got this,” she told him sharply, refusing his help. Not discouraged by her words, he fumbled for bandages, but she snatched the medpack away from him, placing it on her lap and wincing as it brushed against her open torso wounds.
> 
> “Here, let me,” Cassian offered again, reaching again for the medpack.
> 
> “I said I got this,” Jyn repeated, this time a snarl, and, after a beat, he threw his arms up in resignation.

_Jab-jab, swing-step-swing, jab-jab-jab._

> Sighing, Cassian reached for his comms. “Kay,” he said. “Side targets have been taken care of. We’ll rendezvous after patch-up.”
> 
> “Copy that,” K2 responded. “When we return, I suggest we do a more thorough background check on Jyn- it’s clear we overlooked the possibility that a rival bounty hunter would intercept us because of one of her past aliases. It can prove costly in the future, and I quite like it when the organics closest to me are actually breathing.”
> 
> Cassian muted the comms as he watched her dress her wounds, clearly refusing to qualify K2’s response with one of his own. Truth be told, she didn’t want to know what the response would have been.
> 
> “I thought I could take them all,” Jyn mumbled as she applied the gel to her side.
> 
> “I thought so too,” Cassian said, shifting his gaze away from her and towards their surroundings, checking for any additional potential threats.
> 
> The words stung somehow- the volume was soft, the words sympathetic, but there was something in the edge of his tone that made the admission feel more like a reprimand rather than commiseration, and as they flew back to base, there was a pain in her chest she couldn’t ignore, and it wasn’t from her cuts and bruises.

_Not good enough._

_Hasn’t been good enough._

_Swing, swing, jab-jab-swing._

If that incident wasn’t the source of her bitterness, just how much- and for how long- had she bottled up her vexations? She’d shoved and packed them in so densely that it was hard to dig through and see just where it all began.

Jyn stepped back, ready to lunge forward and land more punches at the stiffly dangling bag, when she felt a presence behind her, waiting from a respectable distance.

She didn’t bother to look back to know who it was, and so she continued stepping in time and jabbing the punching bag, refusing to let his presence give her pause. “Yes, Cassian?”

“I uh...I just wanted to know if you planned to take a break and eat dinner with me.” He sounded neutral, as he usually did, but the words hung at the last syllables with a bit of hesitation and worry.

It was only when she finally stopped beating up the bag that she realized just how much her body ached and screamed at her, her muscles quivering and begging for reprieve. Her shoulders ached from the simple act of catching her breath, and the sweat dripped from the tip of her pointed nose and round chin.

“You should eat,” he said again, and she could hear him take a step closer. “You’ve been at it all day. Come with me and eat.”

Jyn turned to study his face. As usual, it was flat, neutral, unreadable. It was nigh impossible to determine if that slight wrinkle in the corners of his eyes or the minute furrow between his brows indicated concern, annoyance, or even happiness, and there was a squeeze in her chest when she realized he wasn’t going to say anything more.

“Later,” she said finally, and turned back around to face the punching bag. “I have to keep training if I’m going to be fit for the next assignment.”

_If it’s even going to be enough._

It was a lie, naturally; repeatedly punching an inanimate object wasn’t actually going to train her for anything she wanted to prepare for. But Jyn hoped that it was enough of an excuse that she’d be left alone to keep punching out her anger, anything to make sure her energy was focused on one thing, just so no one else was caught in the crosshairs of a frustration that was increasingly difficult to keep in check.

Jyn could hear the restrained sigh out of Cassian’s nostrils followed by the swish in his jacket before he quietly walked away.

He didn’t need to do anything else to express his disappointment, and she knew it, but it was for the best she never see it; it would’ve hurt her more otherwise.

_Swing-swing punch._

She had to give herself more credit; she lived as long as she did because she fought tooth and nail to see tomorrow, each and every day.

_Jab-step, jab-step._

The ability to watch the sun rise and set another day was validation in itself. She certainly didn’t need to be told by anyone that she was good at anything; actions speak louder than words, after all.

_Step-step, swing._

Her sense of self-worth was more valuable than the validation of others.

_Swing-swing, jab-jab-step._

And yet-

_Not good enough._

 

> “What happened to her?” she heard Cassian ask one night in the repair shop.
> 
> She didn’t plan on eavesdropping on him- in fact, she was on her way back to their shared quarters so that she could go to bed. Cassian was sitting on a stool, hunched over the workbench in consternation. This was a rather normal sight. It was Chirrut’s presence- a blind man in a room full of loose parts and dangerous machinery- that gave her reason to pause. Jyn couldn’t quite see what he was working on, not without revealing her presence, but it wasn’t too much of a stretch to assume he was cleaning and tweaking his blaster.
> 
> Chirrut took a seat at the stool across Cassian and leaned forward, resting his staff gently on the workbench before resting on his forearms. “You think there’s something wrong with dear Jyn?”
> 
> Rather than walk on, she pressed herself against the wall she hid behind, peeking out the side of the door frame to watch them.
> 
> Cassian nodded somberly from around the door frame whence she hid. “I miss her,” he sighed.

_Step-step, lunge, jab-jab-swing._

 

> “You don’t have to, you know,” Chirrut started, and Jyn could hear the playful grin stretching across his face. “If you opened your eyes, you could see her.”
> 
> Cassian’s eyes darkened, and a chill settled in the room. As intense as she could be with her own cold gaze, Cassian’s eyes carried a different kind of intensity, one that ran on a frequency she could never emulate, one so icy that Chirrut didn’t even need vision to comprehend it, and he stopped talking immediately.
> 
> “I just want my partner back,” he admitted, and his voice hung with resignation. “She hasn’t quite been the same; she’s been...angrier. And I don’t know why. I want to help her, but I can’t even begin to help if I don’t even know what the problem is.”

_The problem is that all this still isn’t good enough._

_Jab-jab, swing-punch, jab-jab._

 

> “Sometimes people look with their eyes and still don’t actually _see_ anything,” Chirrut said simply.
> 
> Cassian appeared struck by the words, and he regarded him with a more curious look as he tilted his head gently to one side.
> 
> Chirrut’s elaboration wasn’t any clearer, however. “There is more than one kind of seeing, Captain.” He then turned his head ever so slightly away from Cassian, towards his shoulder, and Jyn was sure his milky-blue eyes had attempted to look right at her.
> 
> “Open up and look within; you owe yourself that much,” he said, and Jyn knew the message was intended more for her than anyone else.

_Punch-punch, swing, swing, swing, jab-jab._

Even if she wanted to follow Chirrut’s advice, she still couldn’t remember when and how she became so jaded. Harder and harder she punched, incensed with herself for having grown soft, for feeling sensitive and weakened by something so trivial as wanting validation from others for her efforts.

_Step, swing, step-step-swing._

The dull thuds in the rec room were joined by a chorus of heavy panting as her hits became more intense, fueled by the anger rising from her core.

_You’re not good enough._

_Lunge, Jab-jab-step._

_Not enough._

The anger bubbled and climbed, higher and higher, reaching her throat. Her breathing had morphed into heavy, angry grunts with each punch.

_Swing-swing, step, jab-jab-swing._

_Not good enough!_

_Jab-jab, swing, twirl-jump-kick-_

The anger reached its peak and spilled out into the air- she nearly screamed as she kicked the punching bag before it fell onto the mat. The sound of the impact was punctuated by the tinkling noise of the chains that snapped under her show of force, which lay limply on the floor. Jyn glared at it as she regained her breath, still ragged from the final blow.

Jyn was good enough to take down a large, heavy, inanimate bag, but as she continued to glare daggers at the felled gym equipment, she realized that her anger- her enemy- still lurked in the recesses of her mind, having cleverly escaped defeat without so much as a scratch. The last of her energy left her, and she dropped down to her knees before falling down next to the punching bag and feeling the cold of the mat against her hot cheek.

Indeed, Jyn wasn’t any better. If anything, she _was_ the punching bag: largely unacknowledged, weakened and collapsed from her own inadequacies.

Why was this eating at her so much?

* * *

When Jyn finally entered the mess hall for dinner, most of the crowd had already left, and she ate alone. It was fine- she preferred to eat under these circumstances these days. Eating on her own was a bit lonely, to be sure, but her anger was easier to manage if she wasn’t around other people when she didn’t have to be. The fewer distractions she had, the easier it was to concentrate on pushing those thoughts away, after all.

As she chewed the (surprisingly palatable) unidentifiable slop in front of her, her muscles continued to protest her recent actions.

 _You have to get better_ , she told herself, as though thinking it could convince her body to listen and repair itself in an instant.

_You’re not good enough yet._

But when was it enough? When will she be good enough?

 _Will_ she ever be good enough?

The longer she ate, the more her muscles quivered, and she found herself asking the same series of questions over and over with each chew.

She had to stop acting like this. She had to stop pushing herself to unreasonable heights, before it got someone killed. But no matter how much she tried to reason with herself over the weeks, no matter how much she tried to tell herself that she was indeed “good enough,” that she was worth _something_ , that she didn’t need to go this far, the doubts clouded over her, greying her perceptions of the world around her.

The voice inside her head, the one that self-advocated so ardently and tried to pull her out of her funk, had gone from a shout to a whisper before silencing completely, nowhere to be found.

Jyn ultimately finished only half her dinner; her body was so fatigued despite the food that it refused to take in any more than the few bites she took. She even attempted one more bite so as to waste less food, but her stomach clenched and churned, threatening to spit it all back out, refusing to expand any further to accommodate just a little bit more.

The night was still young, but it seemed best for Jyn to call it in early and hope to start tomorrow on a better, less bitter note. She woke up in the middle of the night, however, to Cassian’s arms wrapping around her belly and pulling her close to him as he settled in for sleep. The intense body heat blanketed her as he cuddled, a habit he’d developed over their months together. It was supposed to be comforting. It was supposed to lull her back to sleep despite being startled awake. But as he nuzzled into her nape, looking for a way for his face to fit perfectly against her neck, she couldn’t find it in her to get just a comfortable as he was in that moment.

 _You’re not enough_.

There it was again.

The dark parts of her mind slipped out and settled between their bodies.

Cassian stirred slightly- his foot jerked and he groaned quietly before hugging Jyn tighter.

_You’re not good enough._

Why did this become the only thing she could think about? Why was she still annoyed with herself, and why was she unknowingly taking it out on other people? She thought that, at the very least, she could keep it to herself, contain the damage, find a way to deal with it on her own time. It was supposed to be small potatoes compared the real-world problems ahead of her. With the war still raging on in the galaxy, why was her mind so completely engrossed in this kind of internal negativity? Why was her mind so pre-occupied with bringing herself down when the Empire was actively doing that throughout the galaxy? Why was her mind so hyper-focused on making her feel miserable?

It made so much noise that it was getting harder and harder to ignore, even when-

“Good job,” Cassian mumbled in his sleep, and his foot twitched again. He took a deep breath before settling against Jyn’s body once again, rubbing his cheek against her back.

The words rang in her head: _“Good job.”_

It echoed and haunted her. The darkness slithered higher on her body, closing around her neck, and she choked on her own impending tears at the words.

_“Good job, Princess. Thank you.”_

_“Your ingenuity is always helpful and appreciated.”_

_“We’ll be able to make progress with this thanks to your help.”_

It was such a minor thing that she’d nearly forgotten about it.

And yet, her chest tightened at having remembered it all over again, and as the tears blurred her vision, Jyn was reminded, ever-clearly, the source of her frustrations.

Truth be told, it had absolutely nothing to do with a mission she faced a hiccup in, and everything to do with one of her more successful ones. Stars, the assignment wasn’t even particularly difficult (at least, not comparatively speaking). She was assigned to serve as Leia’s bodyguard as the princess sought to continue negotiation talks with a strongly-principled high-ranking Ithorian in neutral territory. Ithorians generally weren’t even particularly fond of violence, and their pacifist policies forbade them from fighting, but Lieutenant Batten insisted that Jyn attend the talks with Leia, disguised as a fellow Alderaanian friend, “just in case something goes wrong”.

The Lieutenant was right to worry, because just as Leia- ever the pragmatic negotiator- nearly got a foot in the door with the Ithorian to open up resources for the Alliance, Jyn noticed the imperceptible movement of one of the Ithorian’s aides reaching for a hidden handheld comms unit in their sleeve, pressing it a number of times in a pattern she recognized as a code. The windows above them soon shattered, and as a gang of bounty hunters rappelled swiftly down, Jyn grabbed the Ithorian and Leia, who unveiled her own hidden blaster, and pulled them towards the exit, away from immediate danger.

What Jyn initially assumed was an attack on Leia soon revealed to be an assassination attempt on the Ithorian representative Leia was trying to foster a trade deal with, having been sold out by his closest aides that accompanied him on the journey. As the glass rained down around them, the aides had used the distraction to make a getaway, and Jyn had backed up further and spread her arms out, shielding Leia and the Ithorian.

 

> “You two need to run!” she ordered over her shoulder, readying her truncheons. “Take cover in the ship and alert the Lieutenant!”
> 
> She could sense Leia hesitating- she took a few shots at the assassins in front of Jyn in an attempt to assist her, but the blaster shots continued to aim for the Ithorian representative. Jyn groaned inwardly at the inefficiency, and her yelling soon became a sharp bark.
> 
> “You can’t negotiate anything when either one of you is dead! Run. Now!”
> 
> Leia’s blaster shots grew fainter as she continued to run with the Ithorian in tow, paving the way for Jyn to back away towards the exit of the building. She took the long way out, weaving between the overturned chairs and tables and the now-singed pillars.
> 
> The bounty hunters were spread out; Jyn counted four of them. As brash as their entrance was, it was clear they were smart enough to determine that they needed to take her out first before even getting started on their coup against the Ithorian representative who was now under Leia’s care. A devilish grin played on her lips when she noticed they carried no other weapons aside from the ones in their hands- they relied so much on their blasters to deal damage that it left them open for physical attack.
> 
> _Keep ‘em spread apart, strike to disarm, and watch them topple like cards._
> 
> The quick-footed rebel rushed up to the closest body- her speed threw them off-guard, and the left truncheon smacked the length of the assassin’s arm, easily knocking the blaster out of their hand, before using her right truncheon to land a flat smack to their jaw. She heard a crack, followed by a strangled groan, and she swung her foot under theirs to upend their balance. They landed back-first with a thud, and Jyn quickly whipped out her blaster to make the fatal shot. The lights in their eyes faded as the smoke from her barrel wafted, and Jyn wasted no time grabbing the assassin’s blaster en route to the next target.
> 
> The second assassin- a large, burly human who was clearly the muscle of the group- and her weapon of choice, a repeater canon, was going to be a bit of a challenge. But if there was anything she learned about Baze’s favorite weapon, it was that there was a mandatory cooldown time, one sizeable enough that she could take advantage of the recharge period. Jyn counted the shots fired since the last charge- _Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three_ \- and ran out from behind the pillar from which she took cover upon hearing shot number twenty-four, hitting the ground and tumbling out of the way for final shot number twenty-five. The female assassin realized her mistake when Jyn immediately got up and kept running towards her, and the assassin held up her repeater cannon to block Jyn’s first truncheon strike. She made the wrong assumption, however- rather than aim straight for the front of the assassin, Jyn circled her and used the blaster she nicked to lay waste to the charge pack on the assassin’s back.
> 
> The burly assassin gasped at the second mistake she made, the aggravated growl low and dangerous, and Jyn exploited the moment to land a proper strike of her truncheons across the assassin’s face. There was an audible crack in the assassin’s jaw, but she didn’t seem to be terribly deterred by that.
> 
> Jyn’s work wasn’t done. She still had to work fast- the longer she stayed in her vicinity, the higher her risk of being out-muscled by her. She grabbed the feeder line from the cannon to the charge pack on her back and yanked it, knocking the repeater canon out of the assassin’s hands. The assassin, naturally, now had free hands that attempted to grab Jyn by the throat, but she ducked out of the way just in time and gave a more concise smack of her truncheon to the assassin’s skull. There was a visible dent where the contact point was, and the assassin fell to her knees, no longer conscious.
> 
> Feeling even more emboldened by her second takedown, Jyn whipped around, stolen blaster at the ready, and made two split-second shots, letting her gut instincts guide her to attacking. The remaining two assassins, both likely from Fillithar, looked at each other from their posts and made the wise decision to back away.
> 
> Part of her wanted to strike them both down. But Leia’s safety was more important, and if these two were going to retreat, then she’d rather take the opening and flee. Refusing to let her ego get the best of her, she made her way back towards the entrance of the building, where Leia and the Ithorian had fled, making sure to keep her eyes on one of them and a blaster pointed at the other.
> 
> When Jyn returned to the ship, she found Leia rubbing her temples in frustration. The Ithorian was incensed, and demanded to know how he could possibly engage in a covert trading agreement with Basic-speaking Humans concealing weapons during the negotiation process. “This is the height of distrust, and tantamount to back-stabbing!” he declared.
> 
> Leia was visibly at the edge of her wits. “Sir, you have to understand, one or more of your aides are _plotting to kill you_ for this; this is absolutely why you need us-“
> 
> “No,” he shot back, as though the counter-argument were so obvious. “ _You_ need _us_. If anything, your cause presents a danger to us, to our kind! Your negotiations are a brand of invasion that are no different from that of the Empire-”
> 
> “You were the target of an assassination attempt-“
> 
> “Because they, too, do not believe I should be engaging in business with Humans! This meeting mobilized them; they were sent because I agreed to meet with you in the first place. If I refuse to allow the distribution of our resources to the Alliance, then these attacks will stop-“
> 
> Jyn smacked her palm against the wall, causing Leia and the Ithorian to snap out of their argument and focus on her.
> 
> “Don’t be naïve,” she said bluntly, and the Ithorian’s eyes widened. Leia’s eyes widened as well, and she looked back and forth between Jyn and the Ithorian, visibly scandalized by Jyn’s accusation.
> 
> “How dare-“
> 
> “We are in the middle of a _war_ ,” Jyn cut him off, and the Ithorian was once again flabbergasted that some “Alderaanian friend of the princess” would be so bold and brash to speak like this to a high-ranking organic such as himself.
> 
> Her eyes were steely. “You want to take the pacifist route? Fine. Go ahead. But if you and your species don’t like fighting, you better kriffing hope that someone out there is willing to stick their neck out for you when the Empire decides you can serve a purpose for their needs, because there’s a reason why Princess Leia is trying to call for unity.” She crossed her arms. “Fight or not, silence is complicity.”
> 
> The Ithorian’s two mouths were left agape, void of any response.
> 
> “History will look back on this and remember where you were the day you decided to let your silence and pacifism kill billions across the galaxy,” she reminded him darkly.
> 
> Jyn shifted her gaze slightly to Leia, who managed to regain her composure and look back at the Ithorian expectantly.
> 
> It wasn’t Leia’s fault he was only able to listen to rough talk- Jyn always knew it was much more difficult to apply a gentle, but firm tone with sentients to keep up with appearances as someone who was expected to follow Mon Mothma’s path in the aftermath of Alderaan. Pounding on tables, raising your voice- that wasn’t how politics worked. Jyn considered herself lucky to never have to be in Leia’s position; it was a world in which words and phrases had double-meanings, where threats were thinly veiled for plausible deniability, where you have to watch your back as well as your front because your enemies will come at you, visible or otherwise. And, more often than not, the ones that stand the most in your way of progress are the ones who can deal the most damage by doing so little.
> 
> The words struck him, and after a few beats of contemplative silence, he bowed to Leia as a gesture of agreement.
> 
> Leia beamed, grateful to finally negotiate a steady source of plant-based imports in exchange for armor and other upgrades to their planet’s defenses against potential Imperial attacks.
> 
> Jyn was proud of herself for that- the Princess made it out alive and in one piece despite the surprise attack, all because of her astuteness, swiftness, and cunning, and the negotiations were a success. It was a job well done, she admitted to herself, and she returned to Echo Base with the kind of smile that could barely keep itself contained.
> 
> But…
> 
> “Good job, Princess. Thank you,” Cassian said as the post-assignment debrief concluded. “Your ingenuity is always helpful and appreciated.”
> 
> Leia smiled subtly and nodded. “We need these resources if we want to keep expanding our bases.”
> 
> “I know,” Cassian nodded back, returning the smile with one of his own. “We’ll be able to make progress with this thanks to your help.”
> 
> When the room cleared out, Cassian began to approach her, and her chest swelled in anticipation. But rather than stop to address her specifically, he placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a small squeeze in passing. She looked up at him, hoping that there would be more to the gesture, that perhaps he was just searching for the right words to say, but his eyes were elsewhere, already looking towards the next item on his agenda. His warm hand left a cold pang in her chest when she realized that Cassian wasn’t going to praise her on a job well done.

_But you did a good job, Jyn_ , she told herself. _Cassian knows that._

Or did he?

Of course he knows; of course he would!

 _Well, that doesn’t really matter_ , she tried to reason with herself. _This was Leia’s mission; of course she would get all the praise. You did what you were told; you put in the work, and that’s all that matters._

And it was true- the attack was only secondary to the focus of the mission itself, an easily-overlooked tidbit that certainly didn’t require praise. The ultimate goal of the assignment had been met, and was met through Leia’s diplomacy and strong negotiation skills. Because of her, Leia and the Ithorian were able to work out an agreement both sides would benefit from. As far as Jyn’s own assignment was concerned, she literally did her job, and did it well.

But then the days wore on and the Empire became more aggressive in their attempts to quash the Alliance’s efforts, and each assignment was as perilous as the last. Each time, despite the odds, Jyn returned from them alive- beaten and sometimes battered, but nonetheless _alive_.

Each time, she would attend the debriefs. Each time, they would conclude with Cassian giving the others praise and a well-mannered expression of gratitude.

Each time, the words were directed to everyone but her.

 _There’s no time for praise,_ she assuaged herself.

 _But he made time for everyone else_ , came the voice in her head soon after.

Each time, the trend became a little harder to ignore, until one day she started questioning herself.

The questioning still hadn’t stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone's looked at this title and story and thought, "...didn't you do something similar already?"
> 
> The answer is: yes, actually! This is Jyn's version of dealing with that same insecurity.


	2. Chapter 2

Jyn was back in the rec room early the next day, having taken advantage of the first round of breakfast in the mess hall. It was still difficult for her to stomach food, but she needed some form of energy, so she settled for a couple of extra mugs of caf to make up the difference. She downed it fast, ignoring the burn blazing down her throat. The sooner she finished eating, the sooner she could go back to training.

She flipped a switch in the rec room and the lights blinked to life. The tinny flickers overhead were the only sound in the room, and the cold air seemed to wake from its stillness, swirling around at her presence. Jyn could feel the frost blow past her cheek as the warmth of the other side of the door enticed the chill to run out, and she shivered.

The punching bag was in the same spot as she left it the night before: lumpy, unmoved, lonely. The chains that once held it up lay limply in a tangled mess. Jyn stared down at it, still unhappy at how much it looked like herself.

Sighing, she hoisted the punching bag upright and untangled the chains before grabbing a stool to prop it back up to its former condition. But it wasn’t until closer inspection that she noticed that the loop holding the chains up was broken. Jyn looked down and found, off to the side, away from the training mat, the black chip of curved metal.

Great- even the punching bag couldn’t get back up.

Jyn threw the punching bag aside in aggravation, and it landed with a dull thud and scraped across the floor.

“Jyn?”

She tensed. She wasn’t expecting Cassian to be looking for her.

He seemed to sense her surprise. “Day off.”

Jyn didn’t want to turn around. She used to look at him and feel her heart take flight; she used to look at him and feel emboldened, empowered, and impossibly strong. She was afraid that if she turned around now, she would look at him and instead only think of her shortcomings and the praise she’d never get. She already felt lonely- she didn’t want to be flooded with more emptiness.

_You’re not good enough yet._

“I see,” she said curtly, and walked away from him to find something else to take her anger out on.

Jyn had only taken three steps when she felt a firm grip on her wrist.

“Look at me,” he said. The frustration of her behavior was clearly getting on his nerves as his words filtered through clenched teeth.

Jyn tugged, still refusing to look at him, and tried to wrench her wrist from his grip. She was unsuccessful- had she become this weak, or had he become stronger?

“Look at me,” he said again, this time with a quiver of worry.

“I need to keep training, Cassian.” She tugged again, to no avail.

The words tumbled out of him, a jar dropped to the ground and cracked open, spilling the contents inside and spreading it into a mess on the floor. “Why won’t you look at me?” he asked. “What’s happened to you? All you do in your free time is stay here with the punching bag. You don’t eat with me anymore. We go to bed at different times. We don’t speak unless we have to. We’ve become strangers.”

“We’re not big talkers,” she deflected, as though that were even the root of the issue.

 _Except it is_.

Cassian squeezed her wrist in warning- he wasn’t going to take the bait. “You know that’s not what we’re really talking about.”

“If this is your day off; you should rest,” she said levelly. “I need to keep training.”

“You’re avoiding me.”

Jyn took a measured breath. This was her fight to fight, not his. “I’m not avoiding you; I have to keep working to get better.”

He wasn’t going to let her go easily, apparently. “Better at what?”

“Everything.”

No answer. Was he incredulous, or confused?

Either way, his silence was a good enough response as any, and she yanked her arm out of his grip. She found a corner of the rec room to do stretches and warm-up exercises, and hoped that she’d at least warm up long enough for him to take the hint and leave.

He didn’t.

“Jyn, please talk to me. I can’t keep talking to a wall.”

That stung.

So she was a _wall_.

This was it, then, wasn’t it? That’s what she was to him: flat, unresponsive, limited in functionality, expected to be there but never noticed unless it’s gone-

_Easily crumbled with the right hit._

_Never good enough._

Jyn looked over her shoulder and their eyes met. He stared back with vulnerability- it, too, was equally empty, equally hollow, equally haunted by their distance.

It surprised her- she never really thought that she’d find a mirror in him, but there was something about it that made her even colder inside. She couldn’t even recognize herself anymore through his lens- she was staring at someone else, a complete stranger.

_You’ll never be good enough._

The voice was so resigned that her chest felt heavy just thinking it. This was the best it could get; this was all she could muster at the end of the day. The Human she thought she was wasn’t the same as the Human she really was; the strength and skill she thought she had was a lie.

A switch flipped in her: the walls came right back up and her cave reformed, as though it had never broken down to begin with. Jyn shrugged nonchalantly and turned back to focus on stretching her legs. “I’m sorry you think that way.”

“I don’t want your apologies, I want my partner back!” he snapped, and reached out to grab her arm again.

Even if she’d downed several mugs of caf not long ago, Jyn was still running on fumes, so it amazed her when she found a final burst of energy, fueled by the anger and frustration she’d kept locked away for so many months, and spun back around and swatted his hand away. It was nearly a choreographed motion, the way she glided into fighting mode. Once his arm swung outwards enough to make an opening, she lunged forward and rammed her shoulder against his chest, sending him flying back and landing with a thud on his back.

Forget the punching bag- she’d found her sparring partner for the day, and he was foolhardy enough to volunteer for it.

Cassian, to his credit, was quick to prop himself back up on his elbows first before getting back on his feet. “Look at me,” he said again, rising cautiously.

_“Open up and look within.”_

Jyn looked him square in the eyes this time, and the memory of his words created a cacophony in the room that refused to be silenced.

_“Great job, I knew you could get it done.”_

_“Bodhi, you need to give yourself more credit, you’ve done a wonderful job.”_

_“One can only marvel at your strength and swiftness, Chirrut.”_

_“I couldn’t have asked for a better friend, Kay.”_

_“This is fantastic, Baze, thank you!”_

_“Good job, Princess.”_

_“Your ingenuity is always helpful and appreciated.”_

Her jaw had never clenched harder as the sound of her mind screaming drowned in the racket. She had to silence it all, she had to get rid of it, she had to-

“I can’t,” she breathed. Two short words, two anchors dragging her down and drowning her.

Jyn’s fingers flexed, curling and uncurling to the rhythm of her barely-contained breathing, which filtered through her nostrils as she pursed her lips.

She wasn’t going to scream, she just _wasn’t_ , no matter how much the sound surged against her throat and threatened to pry her mouth open _._ Instead, she bent her knees slightly, and once Cassian was fully upright and standing, Jyn bounded for him- _step, step, lunge_ \- and took a swing.

Cassian was quick to catch on to her movements- Jyn noted wryly that he’d actually taken a lesson or two from Chirrut, because he backed away just enough to grab her wrist and push it away from his core, redirecting her punch. It left her shoulder and her whole back exposed- _another rookie mistake, dammit Erso!_ \- and Cassian spun behind her locked her in a chokehold. He pressed against her, his grip strong, and murmured against her ear with a ragged voice, “Jyn, you’re wearing yourself down to the ground.”

“I need to get better,” she spat back before shifting her weight to one side and leveraging her fist against Cassian’s thigh. His attention predictably turned to the point of contact on his thigh, and Jyn snapped the arm to a sharp angle upwards to elbow his face. He quickly let go, covering his face at the prickling pain he was undoubtedly feeling, and she removed herself from his hold. “It’s not enough. I’m not good enough. I need to get better.”

“What the kriff are you even talking about?!” he demanded, still massaging the intense pain on his cheekbone. “Of course you’re good enough!”

“Bantha fodder,” Jyn sniped. “I wasn’t worth much,” she said through gritted teeth. Her chest scrunched again and it became harder to breathe as the noise raged on in her mind. “I need to get better; I have to.” The words sounded more frenzied with each utterance. It became a chant, a mantra, something to concentrate on to distract from the pain in her chest. “I can’t let this get to me; I have to be better.”

Weaved between the fine lines of Cassian’s incredulous face was genuine confusion. “What is that even supposed to mean?”

There wasn’t even the time for him to breathe after finishing the sentence.

Jyn struck him again, fueled by fury, and although Cassian was quick enough to deflect each one successfully, he wavered a little each time by backing away slowly to lessen the impact of her swings. While Cassian still expected Jyn to make another attempt at a punch, she instead ducked down and sweeped his legs, causing him to land on his bottom again.

“Everything I’ve done up til now is for the cause,” she managed between heavy breaths, the rage still pumping poisonously through her veins. “But it’s not enough. It’s never enough.”

He got up and Jyn readied herself for another strike, fully intending to take him down by brute force, but Cassian stepped out of the way in time, pivoting on the ball of his foot, and stiffened his forearm enough for her to ram into it herself.

The pain was sharp and Jyn let out a choked groan; she felt the world suddenly tilt as Cassian’s arms wrapped around her, past her neck and over the shoulder, and she fell back. Cassian’s chest stayed pressed against Jyn’s, keeping his weight firmly across her body, his hands clasped together with a tight grip next to her upper arm to keep her down. “ _That_ is bantha fodder, Jyn; you’re more than enough! How could you ever think that you weren’t?”

_Because…_

_Because!_

The stress, the fatigue, the frustration- all of it- balled up into tears and welled out of her eyes. Her voice shook feebly as she finally found the strength to say it out loud: “No one’s ever told me I was.”

The poison continued to pump energy into her; Jyn wrapped a free arm around Cassian’s neck and squirmed aggressively, keeping his head trapped in her grip, and managed to regain control of her hips enough to place a flat foot on the mat. She planted her weight onto it, and thrusted her hips up and outwards to free her lower body. Jyn twisted her upper body one last time to free herself- instead of seeing the ceiling, she saw Cassian’s tired face. In one smooth motion, she straightened her legs upwards and brought them to either side of Cassian’s neck before squeezing her thighs. He tried to grip her legs and spread them back apart to free himself, but Jyn gripped his wrists and kept them away from her legs.

If he wanted her to look at him, then this was his chance- he had no choice but to look straight at her, under her terms.

“Why is the bar set so high?” she sniffed. “It’s set so high!”

Jyn was losing her composure, and she desire to scream was inching back up her throat. “When is it going to be enough for you? When am _I_ going to be enough for you?”

She was so angry at each reminder of his praise that her thighs squeezed even tighter, and Cassian choked. When Jyn decided he had enough, she let go by bending her knees and planting her feet on his shoulders, kicking as hard as she could to send him flying back.

Cassian needed a moment to catch his breath.

So did Jyn.

His shoulders slumped as he slowly stood back up. “You always do a good job,” he panted. “Every assignment was given to you because you’re good at what you do.”

“No one ever makes it a point to tell me,” she growled. Her hands raised again, ready to take another strike. She wasn’t going to lose like this, not if she could help it. Jyn was determined to make her point.

“When did the validation of others ever matter to you?” Cassian asked, undeterred. He took one more step and Jyn threw another punch at him, but it was promptly blocked by his forearm raised in defense. She cut low, striking his stomach, but his forearm swiftly moved down to deflect that as well.

It was a feint; she stepped forward, just slightly, and swung her leg under his once more. He fell on his ass yet again.

“You were always strong; you were always good,” he said, gesturing at himself in demonstration. “You never needed me to tell you that.”

He still didn’t understand.

Jyn’s eyes narrowed. “And yet everyone else needed to be told?”

“If you want to encourage them to keep going, yes,” he responded.

It was ridiculous, what she was hearing. Was she really not worthy of the same encouragement? Her shoulders dropped, and he quickly rammed her stomach, bringing his arms around her middle, and shoved her down. “They didn’t get to grow up with the Empire actively ruining our lives like we did,” he reasoned. “They need the encouragement to keep going.”

This hold was nothing. Jyn responded by swinging her legs up and over herself, and she tumbled neatly out of his hold. She remained on her knees, but kept her eyes on him- her senses were on high alert, and blood thumped audibly against her temples, adding to the continued noise in her head.

“We were all forced to live under the thumb of the Empire,” she argued. “You don’t get to use that as an excuse.”

It was Cassian’s turn to strike back, but he hadn’t quite moved yet. They were at an impasse, and it was during this pause that the chill of the room settled back in- it felt like Eadu all over again. Her cheeks were slick with tears, having smeared across her face from their grappling.

Forcing back tears made her breathing erratic, and it was taking so much of her strength and attention to keep from sobbing on the spot. She was tired. She was angry. She was lonely. The man in front of her looked to be a whole galaxy away from her. They weren’t on the same page, they weren’t walking in step with each other, they weren’t a _team_ \- at least, not anymore.

“Jyn,” he said slowly, raising his hands in defense. “We share the same quarters. Most of our assignments are together. We work in the same division. You-“

He cut himself off, hesitating, debating, but he thought better of it and, after a beat, continued. “You’re the only one I ever let physically close to me the way we are every night. Every hug, every kiss, every hand-hold…I mean every single one of them. How does that not tell you how highly I think of you?”

“Why don’t you ever say it?” The question was meant to be genuinely asked without malice, but she couldn’t control her voice, and it came out as a snarl instead.

Cassian couldn’t answer the question.

His silence was a vibroblade slice right through her chest.

She rose to her feet- he did the same- and she walked up to him slowly, the hairs on her neck standing higher with each step, ready to pounce at any moment. “If I was that important to you, why don’t you say it?”

Cassian’s lips parted slightly, but still no words.

Jyn swung for his head, but it was a feint; when Cassian pulled back from the swing, she grabbed his arm and swung it upwards, exposing his belly, and she drove a precise punch into his stomach yet again.

The snarl became a bark. “I shouldn’t have to ask for praise if the others didn’t!”

Cassian pushed her back from advancing, and she stumbled at the force, but before he could return with a punch of his own, Jyn clasped her hand around his fist and she chopped at the pit of his elbow, forcing his arm to bend. Her elbow whipped up to smack him in the forehead.

Jyn landed another punch to his chest. “Everyone needs the encouragement. They need the validation!”

His lips pursed and his nostrils flared; he was also getting angry. He pushed against her sternum hard enough that she fell flat on _her_ bottom this time. She tried to get back up as quickly as she could, but he wasn’t having it- he got on his knees and straddled her, forcing her hips to stay down. “Ever thought of talking to me about it rather than letting it fester?”

She raised her arm to strike the side of his head, but he grabbed her wrists and pinned them both down.

“We spend almost every night together- how hard would it have been to bring it up sooner than later? Why bottle it up?”

_“Why bottle it up?”_

Because she could handle it herself. She’d gone her whole life without praise- it shouldn’t matter that she didn’t get any even now.

_“You were always strong; you were always good.”_

She used to be able to tell herself that. So why was Cassian’s lack of validation wearing her down so much? Why did it matter?

_“Open up and look within.”_

She couldn’t. She was afraid to. She was afraid of what she’d say, of laying herself bare in front of Cassian. She was afraid of-

_“You owe yourself that much.”_

Jyn finally let out an aggravated scream, and a last surge of energy pulsed through her body. In one smooth motion, as lightning fast as she once prided herself on, she swept her arms to one side, forcing Cassian to hover diagonally over her, and jerked the other side of her hips upwards to set him off balance. The flip was nearly instantaneous; before Cassian could blink, Jyn was the one on top of him, and it was her turn to pin his wrists down.

“I was afraid that if I asked, you’d tell me that there wasn’t anything worth praising,” she sobbed. Her eyesight blurred as the tears streamed out uncontrollably and her body shook. She may have succeeded in escaping Cassian’s grapple and returned it with one of her own, but her strength had already left her, and she was left out in the open, her heart naked and bare for him to see for all its flaws and insecurities.

Cassian didn’t say anything, but his eyes softened.

She didn’t bother to wait for a signal to keep speaking. “You went so long telling everyone else they were worth something and said nothing about me. I thought…I started to think that there wasn’t anything _to_ praise, otherwise you would’ve said it by now.”

The words cascaded like a waterfall, tumbling down and crashing onto Cassian alongside her tears.

Jyn gasped and let out a small, whimpered sob. “And I hate myself so much for _caring._ I shouldn’t care, I shouldn’t! But no one’s ever given me praise. My parents are gone. Saw never praised me. But I learned to not care because he never praised anyone. But you…”

She squeezed his wrists as tightly as she could, and his fingers curled from the pressure. It was the most she could do to stop herself from screaming herself hoarse- the dam inside her burst and the emotions poured out uncontrollably. The walls in her mind crumbled, and she was trapped under the debris.

“You’re the closest person to me and I have to watch you tell everyone- day in, day out- that they’re worth something, that they’re important, that they’ve helped. And none of those words are ever for me.”

The voices in her head couldn't let up; they echoed and bounced and magnified, filling the space with more noise. It suffocated her. Her body was heavy. Her head swirled and she started seeing stars, made worse by her erratic breathing, more ragged than before. Jyn had never lost control of herself quite like this, and the thought made her even angrier. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to hyperventilate and pass out.

“I’m not good enough _for you,_ " she breathed. "I hate that. And I hate that I hate that.” Finally, whimpering feebly, “I shouldn’t even care, but I do, and I hate that.”

Her eyes wrenched shut and her body shook as she continued to cry. It was a vicious cycle; she wanted so badly to stop crying, but the thought of her current state- exhausted, mentally drained, at her weakest point- enraged her so much that the stress built back up, forcing out more tears.

Cassian, for his part, still hadn’t moved. She was almost certain he was watching her cry, if she could only open her eyes and blink past the tears. It was bitterly ironic how she was at her most vulnerable in front of the only living person she felt at home with, but she wanted nothing more than to cover herself back up and hide from him.

Jyn continued to cry, her sobs easing into sniffles as her breathing began to even out.

Then, he caught her by surprise: “I’m sorry.”

She blinked the last of her tears away and was surprised to find that he, too, was hit hard by her emotions. His eyes were puffy and a subtle shade of pink from his own tears, and his lips were parted, quivering, having choked on his words before they could find a way out. He looked as though he’d just been haunted, confronted by a monster he thought had long been vanquished.

He sniffed as well. “I just thought…I never thought you weren’t worthy of anything, just…you always seemed confident, like you didn’t need to be told how good you are.”

Jyn felt him test her weight on his wrists. She uncurled her fingers slowly, the joints aching as they straightened out, and he sat up to bring himself face-to-face with her. His arms wrapped around her body, holding her upright, and he tightly clutched her tunic before pressing his forehead against hers.

“You’re right- I’ve overlooked you completely. If anything, you’re the one I should be praising the most.”

The voices came to a sudden hush and Jyn found relief in the silence. Cassian was sorting through the rubble in the aftermath, carefully removing each brick.

“Sometimes I forget that I’m not always looking at a mirror when I see you.”

He cupped her face- _his skin was always so soft_ \- and rubbed his thumbs across her cheeks to wipe away some of her tears. “You’re good enough for me. You’re more than good enough for me. I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough _to you_.”

Cassian seemed to pull her out of the wreck caused by the storm in her mind, and for once her body felt lighter. The burdens lifted themselves away, and the poisonous lava that flowed in her veins tempered and cooled to a steady rock. Her blood resumed its course, streaming calmly and steadily through the crevices; she could breathe normally again.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” she murmured, still weak from the ordeal.

He shook his head, dismissing her faults, and pressed his forehead a little more firmly against hers before wrapping his arms around her again. “We’ll do better. Both of us.”

They stayed like that for a little while longer: Jyn on his lap, foreheads pressed, taking in each other’s presence and openness in comfortable silence.

Jyn hadn’t realized just how heavy her burdens were, much less how long she shouldered them. “I think…I think I’m tired,” she admitted hazily.

“We still have time before the rest of the base wakes up. Let’s go back to bed.”

The journey back to their quarters wasn’t long at all; or, at least, it was a hell of a lot shorter than Jyn remembered it being. But as the doors slid open and Jyn groggily kicked off her boots, she felt him grip her wrist yet again, stopping her from heading to bed.

“Jyn?”

Her head perked up.

“You’re the best. I love you.”

She turned around and was met with Cassian’s gentle smile- subtle as ever, but no less filled with love and adoration- and her heart soared once again, feeling emboldened, empowered, and impossibly strong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a couple of different fights I've had with my partner. Although Jyn's breakdown was based off my mentality and frustrations, I was ultimately the Cassian in the arguments. You don't always "win" every fight, but everyone walks out a winner if you've learned from it.
> 
> He's the best. I love him.


End file.
